Chapter Text
It was too good to be true, he knew, he felt it, but he'd been too hopeful.
The Taumoeba had evolved.
It was everything Earth and Erid needed, but it was also what could—no. What would kill Rocky. For him, patching a leak was as easy as duct taping a hole in some imaginary pool. But how does Rocky patch a leak when everything is the leak? Rocky was doomed from the start, so the fates deemed it.
The labeled diagram of a triangle just seemed to spit the facts clear as day back at him. No amount of rationing would take away from that. He could save earth, and go home, but Rocky would die. All of Rocky. All of Erid. Slowly. Painfully. Because of him. Or he could give up any chance of going home, give up everything he didn't yet have, save earth, save Rocky, save Erid. And if it was the wrong choice still? At least Rocky wouldn't die alone, not as alone he had been for the past 40-fucking-something years, slowly waiting for death.
The moral dilemma was as clear as day, as clear as a day could be this far from home. He would be fine no matter what he chose to do. He didn't need to die, not here, not now, not for a rock he'd just met. Some part of him wonders what might await him if he chose to return home, to willingly leave another to die. Yeah no. That wasn't happening.
It was a swift decision, and maybe on some level going back home didn't feel quite right anyway. He didn't have family, he didn't have anyone, and yeah he would go back to teaching, he would go back a hero, but.. something was just too wrong about it. Some bitter taste that refused to leave his tongue.
Didn't matter. He'd film his last message, send the probes back to earth, and turn tail straight for Rocky.
Rocky had been his sole grace and he wasn't going to leave him for dead.
Rocky was the most important thing to him right now.
He'd known that fact since the first moment he'd met that beautiful rock.
. . .
Beautiful.
Space looked beautiful.
3 weeks from Erid.
Did it always look so beautiful so far from home?
Did he just maybe never think about it before?
Or was it all just so terrifying, to reach into the stars and find them warmer than the one that gave him life.
How did he never think of it before? He felt stupid. He also felt sick—but relieved, definitely relieved. His eyes finally opened, heavy, like it was an open he should still be sleeping, but he resisted. He couldn't sleep again. How long had he even been asleep for?
“..Grace awake, question.” His question was immediately answered upon trying to turn his head, Rocky's body directly overhead him in his shabby sleeping bag with only glass—or.. something close to it, separating them. His body didn't respond immediately, not even as he tried. He felt weak. Too weak to be anything good. “Grace sleep 26.6 hours: longer than before. Grace ok?”
Rocky's syntax sounded almost worried, or maybe that was just him humanizing the Eridian's makeshift voice too much. Still, he felt obligated to answer Rocky's question. “Grace ok. Just tired.” Simple. All he could muster without sounding like he was something more than groggy. “But grace sleep so much already. How watch Rocky sleep, question.” Rocky quipped back, fast, like he was trying to understand, and Ryland knew he was, and maybe he was just being selfish. He wanted to protect Rocky. But Rocky wasn't a child, far from it, in fact, possibly even more mature than him.
“Is now a good time to watch you sleep?” He asked, the thought of burdening another simply going against his better nature as a teacher, even if he no longer had students to protect. This was worth protecting. He'd given up all of it, for this: going home, having a family, a pet, seeing his students again, for this. And for once, he might have actually felt brave for doing so, because he chose this. “No no no. Bad bad time. What if Grace fall back asleep when watch Rocky, question.” Rocky retorted, the hardened carapace of his feet tapping against the glass as if to punctuate how wrong he was.
“No… I wouldn't do that.” It was hard to well who was he trying to fool, did it really matter? As long as he fooled someone, preferably himself.
He was starting to feel lethargic.
Weak.
No.
He couldn't do that right now.
“–Look at how awake I am right now Rocky..” His sentence bowed slightly in the middle as he brought himself to stretch, the universal human sign of being awake in his mind. Rocky tilted slightly, like he was assessing the truth behind the statement before finally reaching some invisible conclusion. “Good. Grace need to awake. Sleep too long. Waste time.” He almost laughed at that, cocking an eyebrow in curiosity, he knew that sense of haste. Rocky was onto something that didn't involve sitting still for the next 12 hours.
“..And you know how long I should be sleeping?” Ryland chimed in after Rocky's syntax, trusting that his friend lacked the genuine context to find his behavior concerning. That was the only grace being different gave him, to Rocky, he was perfectly normal, perfectly ordinary. Not eccentric, not a nut job laughed out of his field, not even weirdly lonely. Just Grace. That was the best kind of new start a man like him could ask for.
“...No. But Rocky want know.” Emphasis on want, Rocky sounded almost ecstatic, how could he not be, they were just weeks away from Erid. It was like nothing. “Rocky wants to know..?” He prompted, picking up on the fact Rocky was basically waiting on his acknowledgement. “Human stuff, exclamation.” Like it was the most obvious thing in the world. And before he could even try asking what ‘human stuff’ entailed exactly, Rocky was already starting again.
“Rocky want know…. how Grace work.” He prompted, standing upright like he was giving some grand speech, not like he was pondering how Grace worked internally. He had to assume they were at that stage of comfort by now, they saved the stars together and they both barely knew how each other functioned. It would've happened sooner or later. “Alright, class with Dr. Grace is in session.” He chuckled as he prepared to don his teacher persona once more for Rocky, fixing his glasses on his face as a nervous tic. “..Tell me where to start and I'll talk about it.”
“Stupid joke. Lab is no class.” His pride was once again beaten with a verbal stick as Rocky quickly failed to find his chatter amusing. “Okay okay..” He sighed. “Rocky want know how Grace move. Grace all squishy and leaky. No hard shell. How move, question. How not melt into leaky puddle of Grace, question.” The Eridian very quickly let loose his curiosities, like a proper scientist should. It was almost comforting to be a part of a genuine scientific discussion without being laughed at.
Grace immediately straightened his back, one more habit kept after his long coma, already lifting up his arm to flex his bicep as he began talking, the burn scar tissue present pulling taught at the stretching. “Okay so—great question—but humans have something called the muscular system. It feels squishy but it is actually a very strong–” “–But Grace not strong.” He cringed inwardly, practically deflating at Rocky's blunt assessment. “For humans, it is. Because humans and Eridians are different.” He tried to salvage it, even if he was probably only digging his grave even deeper. He had to force himself to keep his confidence and not deflate any further, public speaking had taught him that much.
When Rocky didn't interrupt him again, he took it as his cue to continue. “And so, the muscular system is actually a very strong group of organs. Why? Because it's what gives us mobility by contracting and pulling on tendons, which are tissues that attach muscle to our bones-” He barely got the sentence out, not that he exactly thought he would've anyway. “Question. Why Grace answer Grace question.” He sighed internally, it was just like teaching a hyperactive child, only he knew Rocky could have manners if he wanted to. He swore Rocky just enjoyed annoying him.
“Because it's a rhetorical question—I.. we're getting off topic.” He quickly recovered, carrying on to the best of his ability, teaching middle school had taught him that much. “And the bones, that are moved by muscles and tendons, are what keeps me, Grace, from melting into a puddle. Its the structure of the human body.” He quickly explained, though not before being hit immediately with what could be either really smart or really dumb. He lowered his hands to lift up the front of his shirt, bearing his emaciated torso for Rocky to see, one hand holding the shirt, the other pointing.
“—See here? These are my ribs, they keep my internal organs safe by giving them enough room inside of me,” He stated, feeling proud of himself, elated even as his index finger jabbed instructively to his individual ribs. “they also protect my most important ones. Kinda like your shell.” He added onto his previous statement, and Rocky was immediately receptive to the lesson. “Ooh. Rocky get it. Grace skeleton like Rocky shell.” Rocky echoed some level of approval, finally, front claws doing celebratory jazz hands.
“And this—” Ryland paused, taking a slight breath in as he shuffled in place, turning his back to Rocky, shirt still pulled up to his chest, his hand trying to reach around to continue the demonstration. He cursed all of his years of bad posture, he must've looked sick to Rocky, who was all but the perfect model student. “—is the spine. This is where all of our mobility happens, because if this breaks, we uh.. don’t move anymore.” He said, his finger crooked— but pointing at the visible ridge of his spine, the muscles of his back and stomach already sore even with the minimal exertion of what he was doing.
“Is normal for there not be lot of squish on Grace?” Rocky was curious, of course, watching him use his own malnourished body as a makeshift biology lesson, his hands just a little shaky as they held their position. Of course he didn't look nearly as healthy as when he first met Rocky, but he didn't think it was that drastic. “..Yup! Perfectly normal, some humans are just like that.” He answered on a sharp huff of an exhale as he dropped the position, his shoulder already protesting at his attempt as flexibility. It ached a little more than usual, but he'd been sleeping on the floor and other various surfaces for the past few.. months? It was natural.
“Grace sure?” Rocky asked, his hard claw pressed to the glass like he was trying to touch Ryland. “Grace sure, Grace is pretty strong actually. Less squish is a good thing.” A half truth, but Rocky didn't need to know, and he didn't know if Rocky could tell the reason his heart was racing was because he was lying. “Good.” Rocky stated, like he finally grasped the concept. Guess he hadn't lost his teaching edge just yet, that was a good sign.
“And so that's why the human body isn't a melty puddle.” He finished off, though it still sounded like there should've been more, he'd never been good at ending speeches, usually someone either interrupted him or.. got him off on a tangent. That's how human conversions worked. Maybe that was how Eridian conversions worked. “..Any other questions?” Ryland quietly piped up, voice a little shy because his spirit was barely scraping by, living off of Rocky’s conversation and validation. Rocky seemed to pause, thinking for a moment, before making something that semi resembled a shake of his ‘head’.
Silence. Silence that Ryland couldn't fill, silence that Rocky felt. Awkward silence, the worst kind. And maybe Rocky was just becoming socially adept, or if he just didn't want to hear Ryland try it personally, but he decided to break the silence. "Tell Rocky about.. colors.” The Eridian requested, sitting patiently as his fellow man in science perked up, momentarily pulled out of what was sure to be another episode of sad Grace.
Rocky didn't entirely understand the concept of color, but he would listen if it meant hearing the audible twinkle of the human’s joy play out before him. Grace was the most lively thing in the room, the human had turned back for him, and even now risked himself in trying to help Rocky. Grace, though he was smart, couldn't for the life of him notice Rocky's thoughtful gaze, something like that was simply lost between their different manners or existence. Ryland was simply lost in his own voice, trying to figure out how to explain color, eventually settling on using texture and elevation to recreate gradient and shading.
“..And we humans actually see color like how you see uh.. like your carvings! Think of it like my scars.” Ryland was ranting, the light in his eyes bright, though he was starting to look like a living corpse by his own opinion. “Colors help us differentiate objects and we even use them to make pictures, like how texture shows up to you on your uh.. braille—device?” He eventually came to a self made dead end, though he had faith he ultimately wouldn't make a fool of himself. And by God, he didn't need to do any more of that.
“Rocky get it. Color make Grace happy?” Rocky asked, distinctly processing the signs of nervousness like how a friend might read social cues in conversation with someone familiar. Rocky had started to read that nervous, high pitch baritone grit as his cue to add, not just listen. Grace seemed to need that to continue talking. “—Yeah and people actually fill big buildings called museums full of stuff called art. Art is when people use colors to make a picture, like a frozen puppet show.” He smiled, happy to if for a moment dwell on the human things he missed. That smile meant Grace was indeed happy, it was little more than a prominent ridge to Rocky, but it was just as important as the science they'd birthed together.
“..Rocky like Grace smile.” Rocky spoke, the statement profoundly outside of the expectations Ryland had all but crushed beneath his heel. Though he had no true reason to think so, why would he burden another sentient being with making him feel wanted. “You.. you can see me smile?” He questioned, as if he couldn't fathom the fact such a small thing might ever be relevant. “Yes. Rocky see small curve texture when Grace happy.” The syntax arrived internally more robotic than Ryland usually preferred to process them, he guessed Rocky watched him closer than he thought.
“I didn't think you paid that much attention..” He chided, crooked smile sitting awkward on his face, perfectly in line with his glasses that honestly barely served their purpose. “Rocky always pay attention.” The response was immediate, like it was obvious, like to assume otherwise was offensive. “And I guess that's why you're such a hot shot scientist back on Erid, right?” He picked up, his sad attempt at confidence boosting a rock alien.
And… “Rocky not hot or shot. Rocky right here.” Yup. It didn't land. Nope, he had that coming, he had a hunch in his gut before he even said anything. “It's a metaphor.. like saying you're popular.” He eventually explained, once he managed his self morale up at least. It was somehow bad enough that he was already terrible at social interactions, even worse now that all of the social cues that aided his awkwardness towards something resembling functionality were gone. “Grace think Rocky.. popular, question.” Rocky tested the word on his vocal cords, he remembered the word and its coordinating meaning, of course, but it still had yet to make its appearance in more casual conversation.
Rocky thought about for a moment, he was popular, he knew many other Eridians, especially in his field of science. Rocky was a hot shot scientist with all of the social prestige and status that implied. And to Ryland, coming home after saving the stars would probably only add to that. “Yup, you gotta be, right?” He chimed, smiling again.nHe felt happy for Rocky in that regard, even comforted by the thought of his friend's success, who wouldn't feel happy for their friend?
“Rocky is popular, statement.” Rocky perked up after a short moment, confirming Grace's prior statement. “Rocky have lot of friend plural. Would like Grace meet friend plural when arrive on Erid.” He offered, no hesitation, just intent, it was clear Rocky wanted Grace to be involved. They'd grown very close over the months they'd worked on the astrophage after all. “Guess we had it coming.. huh? Not just space coworkers anymore, we're moving onto being actual friends!” Ryland exclaimed, happily, maybe a little too much work to be talking about becoming friends with another man.
“Grace not friend.” Shattered. Ryland’s stomach dropped, they weren't friends. No hesitation, not even some vague cue to add some much needed nuance to the statement. “I.. huh?” He stumbled over his words. “Grace is ♪♬♫♫♪♬. Grace very good ♪♬♫♫♪♬.” Rocky clarified, more like he was telling him his place next to the Eridian. “Oh.. um. Ok. Yeah! That!” Would it be too awkward to ask Rocky to clarify without seeming desperate for validation? Probably. Did he have the guts to test that hypothesis? Not really. People didn't really ask about these things, right? And besides, whatever it was, he was good at being it, and that was enough for his mine to shuffle away the word for later.
And then, a grumble, an odd lunching of Ryland's stomach. He was hungry. That feeling was becoming more consistent by the passing days. “..Well! Guess we know what time it is.” Grace piped up, patting his stomach as he gave a sheepish laugh. There wasn't a lot of food left. Not by a long shot. That didn't mean he had to act like it though, for Rocky's sake. “Time for Grace eat?” Rocky perked up, part curious and part… noticeably more accepting of his manner of eating.
It was no secret to Grace that social norms may vary, they were different species after all, but the shock when eating in company was supposedly very bad manners to those on Erid. Rocky had been basically appalled and disgusted that he was so open about it, though eventually, after a long conversation about it, Rocky had decided he was ok with him eating. Like it was something he could dictate. Then again, Rocky had a habit of being.. authoritative. Ryland for his part was glad they'd moved past it, he had a good relationship with food and he wanted to keep it that way.
“Exactly.” Grace nodded, and instinctive thing, like he was finalizing a very important choice in that way adults did around young children. Habits that stuck around that he never kicked. And Grace stood, already onto the task of trying to find some food, before his knees buckled. It was completely unexpected, and for a moment he panicked, Rocky panicked, as he hit the ground with a painful thud. “Grace! Grace why fall? Grace ok?” Rocky's syntax was loud on Grace's ear, the Eridian's frantic glass tapping a grounding noise as he shifted on the floor, groaning as the dull ache of his overtaxed joints kicked in. Overtaxed. Sure. He'd barely used them. It was ridiculous.
“I'm good, Rocky… Don't worry..” He managed through gritted teeth as he used his arms to pull himself back up, legs still shaky but working better now. He needed to exercise more. “Grace lying. Grace look hurt.” Rocky was insistent, rightfully so but damn it he was fine. Humans just hurt sometimes, it was common knowledge. At least to him. “Nope.. I'm sure. A tiny fall is not gonna kill me, alright bud?” He spoke up, his words seeming to quiet, though not completely absolve, Rocky's panic. “Now. Who's ready for food?” He finally said, clapping his hands together as he walked into one of the main areas of the ship.
Rocky followed not too far behind, having practically rushed into his safety ball to follow after him. The clinking was faint, the corners hitting the floor in time with his wobbly footsteps. This part wasn't something he needed to narrate, he didn't really want to, how would he even try to make light of a nearly empty food supply? It didn't matter. Nothing a munch of some good old cardboard couldn't fix. Cardboard as Ryland knew it, was basically food, just… without any calories, or nutrients. It was good enough though. Fiber keeps his stomach full and makes him feel less like keeling over and dying.
So, one weird tube of astronaut gravy and an.. appetizing..? Looking piece of cardboard later, and he was sitting on the floor, back to Rocky's ball, leaning on it. Rocky didn't seem to mind, not anymore at least. “..Grace eat a lot of non organic material, statement. Non organic material good for eat, question.” Rocky asked, making it clear he was watching Ryland closely, of course he was. One would think a species that had a shaming practice around eating Rocky would avert his ‘eyes’ or something, right? Guess not.
“Uh..” He mumbled, mouth still full of a weird cardboard-astronaut-gravy-slurry-smoothie. “..-Yup. Good to eat.” He lied, praying the way his heartbeat spiked wouldn't give it away. God he looked crazy. He sounded crazy too. It went against his better nature to explain everything about eating cardboard, about its nutritional value and its uses as a survival tactic. Rocky didn't need to know eating cardboard was to keep him from literal malnutrition. “Good. Rocky glad that Grace eat. Grace spend long time asleep without eat, not good, statement.” Rocky expressed, his concern planting the beginning seed of guilt in Grace's heart. But he could live with that guilt.
“You worry too much..” Ryland sighed, tone fond, just basking in the moment of connection between him and another sentient being. “Rocky worry too little.” The emotion that same through the syntax was something close to regret, like Rocky thought he wasn't doing enough for Grace, even though he'd given Grace everything. Especially after nearly dying in Adrian's gravitational pull together, Rocky had yet to let go of his own perceived failings. The texture left beyond on Grace's formerly unmarked skin was a reminder of that, though the imprint of his own paw on Ryland’s wrist wasn't a bad outcome.
Ryland just offered a light hearted laugh, a sound meant to diffuse whatever unwanted tension lay in between them. Rocky didn't mind, why would he? He knew Grace didn't want him worrying, that was the kind of creature Grace was: selfless, brave, the most beautiful thing to exist in his life next to Adrien. And he knew, when they reached Erid, Adrien would love to meet Grace. His ideal life was within reach, and it made him warm inside, almost giddy. And because of all of this Rocky was a mess, an absolute, clumsy, mess.
If Adrien could see him how he'd probably be questioned to idiocy. He was still staring Grace down, watching him eat, like it wasn't completely inappropriate, but Grace had no problem with it, so he would stay. He wasn't perverted. He couldn't be. And if he was, he.. what would he do then? For all of Rocky's attitude and swagger, he didn't really think that far ahead. He was cunning, but not that cunning, if Adrien caught him doing this he'd absolutely be lectured. But if it meant listening to his mate's voice without pause, his spirit might yet endure.
“Grace.. maybe… help Rocky eat?” Rocky suddenly broke the silence, his automated tone portraying his hopefulness in receiving some variation of yes. Ryland was, at first, confused, deeply so, as Rocky had made it clear such activities were social taboo. God, he knew why, he'd basically asked for a front row seat and gotten the silent treatment whilst being forced to watch because of self perceived politeness. Then again, if Rocky was watching him eat already, how much further or a step could this really be.
“Grace help Rocky, question?” Rocky asked again, less awkward the second time around, visibly excited as he perked up from his unmoving spot in his protection bubble. He wasn't this excited last time, it was jarring. “I mean.. yeah, sure, don't see why not.” Grace settled, putting his tube of food-gravy and cardboard down. Rocky's excitement was viewed through the fast-paced tapping of his 5 limbs, each having its own distinct pattern if Grace were to focus in on it.
A small detail he noticed and thought about from time to time. “So.. how does this work?” Ryland paused, hands pausing in the air as soon as he moved towards Rocky's seated form on his side of the xenonite tunnel. “Is grace stupid, question.” Rocky quipped, one leg tapping against the ground, enunciating his already potent attitude. “No no like-.. God, Rock, you make me sound dense.” Rlyand sounded exasperated, as if he knew any attempt at defense would be disarmed faster than the Eridian could come up with another reason.
“Grace very dense.”
He could practically feel the disappointment.
“I mean, do I just… use this—?” He asked, hands carefully inching into position, one hand placed against the clear xenonite wall, bracing his unsteady body, as Rocky had deemed him, and the other experimentally poking through the low poly mesh panel of the construct. He'd never tried touching it before, it was surprisingly pliable, definitely, his fingers encroaching into the interior space so easily, and honestly, it was the closest he'd ever been to Rocky. “Yes.” Rocky confirmed, flashing him the green light that he was on the right track.
Rocky could hear Grace's heartbeat, steady, persistent, quickening its haste as Grace drew closer to him. Ryland was slow, endearingly so, but slow nonetheless. He didn't mind of course, Grace was a curious man and a quick learner when he put his mind to the task. Ryland, for his part, visibly tensed as he heard the first crack, Rocky's carapace splitting open just as it had last time. Still wasn't used to it, but he was much more mesmerized now that he'd been invited.
Humans tended to be very.. receptive when allowed to participate as opposed to just watching. Grace found that he felt chest tighten in a certain kind of way as he eyed the fleshy interior of Rocky's anatomy. He didn't move closer to Rocky, he knew what step happened before eating and he didn't want to make a fool of himself. SPLAT. Last week's dinner went into a pan that was quickly pushed aside. He could already see the silver mercury that made up Rocky's blood coating the cracks in Rocky's carapace.
Rocky for his part tilted his body back, exposing his exposed mid section, allowing Ryland near what he has pieced together to be either a sensitive or simply private area. Of course, Ryland seemed almost shy as he picked up a small couple of odd metal cubes, nothing he recognized, and lifted them. He was careful, moving palm first, not exactly wanting to jab Rocky with his fingers, and feeding the small metal cubes into Rocky's ‘mouth’.
He half expected the job to be done, simple as that, not out of laziness, but out of that uncomfortable social anxiety one gets when one is still not sure of what to do despite clear instructions. Rocky didn't, instead giving a single impatient tap on the floor of his area. Ryland braced himself, remembering with haste the singular time he's seen Rocky eat. That could give him a hint on what he's supposed to do, right? And it does. Not that he particularly likes the hint. Because when Rocky feeds himself, he uses his hand to—.. push—the food in.
He can do that. No problemo.
Grace uses his fingers to push the food in, half unsure of how much finger he should use in this context, in any context for that matter. And once he receives a confirming tap from Rocky, he retracts his fingers, finally taking a breath he didn't know he was even holding as he knelt there.
His heart by this point was pointing against his chest, fast and hard as scooped up another small handful for Rocky to eat. He could feel the flush on his face now that he was paying attention, his cheeks warm and his glasses having all but fallen into his lap. Their residency upon his deeply confused face had ended prematurely, that much was clear, and he had neither the awareness nor will to fix them. When Rocky had finally finished the bite, it was signaled via another tap, Grace was quicker this time now that he knew exactly what to do.
He gathered another handful, hand steadier now, feeding Rocky with what could be vaguely classified as grace. He was no swan, but he would put all the effort he could into not messing this up. The moment was nice. Definitely nice. The resulting sounds of chirping and melodic notes conveyed perfectly the Eridian's pleased demeanor. English could never be so beautiful, not in his mouth, not like that. He could listen to it every day, and he did, even if half of that time spent was Rocky scolding him over one thing or another.
“You.. look very pretty when you eat.” Ryland stated, offering a display of teeth that was just a little more heartfelt than the usual display of fealty. Humans seemed to do that a lot, bearing their teeth to show friendliness, it was an odd behavior surely, but it meant Grace was happy. There was a response, Ryland was sure, but the frequency was too low for the translator to pick up. The only thing he picked up on was one of Rocky’s hand—legs, grabbing his wrist, pulling his fingers closer.
“..Grace feed more.” Rocky's translator finally picked up, the seemingly abstract gesture making sense now. God he was worse at social cues than he thought. “Right! Sorry, bud.” Grace quickly nodded his head, his heart still fickle in his chest as he carried on. The scene reminded him of one of those corny teenage dates in those movies, two love stricken kids feeding each other ice cream or pasta or some kind of milkshake. It was an out-done trope, Ryland had always refused to think there was any magic in it, but now… now he guessed he was just too lonely to understand before.
And eventually, when the metal cuboids had finally been cleared from Rocky's plate, it was over. It was the closest Rocky had ever wanted him, at least while he was awake. Ryland knew sleeping was an entirely different circumstance. And while he couldn't read exactly the Eridian's—facial expressions..? He could at the bare minimum tell he'd done a good job. It was a long moment after that thought as Rocky slowly put himself back together.
“..Now Grace watch Rocky sleep.” The engineer's voice quickly cut through his absent thought. He was a little startled, after all, Rocky's assertiveness always tended to put him off, not that he was mad or unsettled. And besides, if his fellow man in science wasn't, nothing would ever get done! Besides, Rocky seemed to be going into hibernation mode, he was visibly shaky on his 5 limbs, lowering himself before even receiving confirmation from Grace.
“O-uh-yup! Dr. Ryland Grace is on watch duty!” He quickly answered once his brain caught up to its new task. “And Grace no fall asleep, question..?” The Eridian questioned him like an officer might have conducted an interrogation. That was Rocky's usual tone, though beneath it, the scientist could hear him beginning to succumb to sleep regardless.
“Nope. Eyes will be wide awake. Not a snore out of moi.” He defends, never mind his attempts at humor likely being passed off as meaningless human gibberish, such as Rocky had deemed many of his tics. “—Grace no make sense. Disregard Grace. Grace swear to watch Rocky?” Rocky was snippy, but wouldn't anyone under these conditions be? Though he refrained from the full brunt of his usually offensive nature, Ryland’s voice was a pleasant note when he was trying to calm a situation.
It made the other man seem almost intentionally meeker, perhaps it was intentional, Rocky couldn't tell, he had a hunch it was just more human customs that lacked true substance. “I swear.” Grace finally answered, voice solemn, returning his seriousness in kind. “Good good good...” Rocky finally stated, already having taken liberty of getting to some version of comfort.
He stopped for only a moment to look expectantly to Ryland and immediately, the biologist was taking his place right next to Rocky. Ryland figured he'd probably just start counting to pass the time, trying to fill in all the gaps in his memory if he could, while Rocky slept. What more was there to do? Maybe finish his space food. More like prison slop. He wasn't very hungry anyway, he'd save the slop and cardboard for later, it helped the rationing effort anyway.
And when he looked back at Rocky, his fellow scientist had already fallen into that familiar stillness that meant he was out for the night. Guess that meant he wasn't sleeping. He better start counting.